The morning after our confrontation with Aikan and Noah, Bloodmoon was different.
It wasn’t something I could name—not yet—but I felt it in the way the pack moved, in the way their voices were just a little quieter than usual, their gazes darting toward Kane and me as we passed.
They knew something had happened.
And though they didn’t yet know what, wolves were perceptive.
They could smell tension.
Kane had called an emergency meeting with our highest-ranking warriors and advisors. The war room was full, the scent of fresh pine and aged parchment mingling with the weight of uncertainty.
I sat beside Kane at the head of the long wooden table, my fingers tapping restlessly against the arm of my chair.
Marcus sat a few seats down, Lucien beside him—closer than I had ever seen them befo
